


It Must've Been Love

by UrbanCuntemporary



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post 4x20
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-02 08:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrbanCuntemporary/pseuds/UrbanCuntemporary
Summary: Prev. titled "The After"Break ups are hard. Cisco and Cynthia's break up is harder than most--or harder than it needs to be. Cynthia is still a valuable asset to Team Flash. And Cynthia's criminals still flee to Earth 1 for sanctuary--not to mention Earth 1 STILL has the best coffee in the multiverse.So whatever, maybe they run into each other more than they rightfully "should."It's fine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission is simple.
> 
> It’s standard retrieval protocol: Get in, secure the payload, get out. The window is 6 minutes 23 seconds, but this will only take approximately 3 minutes and 41 seconds to complete, tops. No muss, no fuss.

_5 Days_

The mission is simple.

It’s standard retrieval protocol: Get in, secure the payload, get out. The window is 6 minutes 23 seconds, but this will only take approximately 3 minutes and 41 seconds to complete, tops. No muss, no fuss.

Infiltration is successful. No bogies in sight, there’s a clear path from the payload to three noted points of egress, and--

“Hey--ah--!!” Correction, one bogie. Neutralized.

“Why are you touching me?” Cindy asks the man currently cradling his wrist like a baby bird.

“There’s a line, freak! You’re cutting,” He grunts, motioning behind him. Except it’s 7:04 on a Friday morning and even though there’s a couple suits caffeinating at one of the standing tables, there’s nobody in line but the two of them.

“One second, please,” she dismisses and turns back to the counter just as the barista on duty steps u--Oh fantastic.

“Gail!” she greets with forced enthusiasm.

“General,” Gail mock salutes with a giggle, “Or whatever your name is that you won’t tell me even though you come here all the time.”

Cindy laughs weakly, “I uh didn’t think you’d be working today.” She’d actually planned on it. To. The. Letter.

Cindy’s been scraping by on the last bit of Jitters java she has for about a week now, which is an impressive but temporary fix. She can only dilute so much before she loses her fucking mind. And based on her extensive vibing, this is the only time window in the next week and a half that she can replenish her supply without….running into anyone.

“Don’t you have an exam at 8:00 in your biology class--or whatever?” She asks, hoping it’s not weird how specific the question is.

“I do!” Gail brightens “--or did have a bio exam at 8:00. It got pushed back ‘cause Professor Adams got sick--lucky me. That was a crazy accurate guess though, you must be like psychic or something!” she jokes.

Cindy musters another strained laugh, “Right. Crazy.” She checks her watch. Shit, it’s already been 4 minutes.

Gail’s a sweet kid. She is. And Cindy’s never met a Gail that was under 40, never met a college kid this chipper at this early in the morning, which maybe makes her interesting. But Gail is real damn chatty. Which isn’t cute on everyone. And not something Cindy always--or ever--has time for. Like now.

“So uh...can I order?”

“Oh, right!” Gail grins. “Yeah, the usual?”

“Come on!” Guy Behind Her chimes. “I was here first!”

“Triple it,” she nods to Gail, ignoring him.

“Whoa, that’s a lot!” Gail says. “ I mean like you usually order a lot but that’s--”

“It’s a shitload,” Cindy finishes. “You got enough?”

“Sure thing. I take it you’re gonna be gone for awhile? Vacation?”

“Something like that.” 5 minutes.

“Where to? Somewhere tropical? Or like...romantic? A trip with that guy I always see you in here with?”

Cindy’s jaw tenses. “No. By myself.”

“Oh.” Gail’s brow furrows in concern. “You guys didn’t break up, did you? You seemed to--”

“Look can you just get the damn coffee please?” Cindy snaps, drawing the attention of the guys at the table. She shoots a glare at them, and they hastily look away.

Gail has shrunk back. She doesn’t quite meet her eyes when she softly says, “Sorry, I’ll get it,” before disappearing into the back.

Great.

Guy Behind Her snorts. “No wonder you got dumped.”

Cindy checks her watch: 6 minutes. She sighs.

“It’s your lucky day, buddy,” she says back at him, digging in her side pocket and fishing out every scrap of Earth 1 money she’s got. She drops half in the tip jar for the kid and the other half on the counter. “Your coffee’s on me.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh,” he says, clearly pleased. “Well, that’s the le-”

He doesn’t get the rest out because Cindy hauls back and punches him across the jaw. The force makes him stumble into the pastry display, catching himself on it.

“Next time don’t be such an asshole, yeah?”

Cindy opens a breach in the dead middle of Jitters and catches the movement of a familiar head of hair outside the shop window just as she jumps through, coffeeless.

Welp. That bridge is burned.

* * *

The whole day is rough. 

See, Cindy’s gotten used to a certain standard of living. And chasing down breachers without an ounce of caffeine in her veins is harder than she’s ever remembered it being. She thinks when she gets home she’s just gonna shove her face in the pitcher where the last pot she brewed used to be and take a good long inhale.

At least until she gets home. And outside her door, there are the 12 totes of Brazilian coffee beans she’d ordered. She could honestly cry.

And she might. She's got a feeling, a thrumming in her chest that tells her exactly where it all came from. But she finds a paper tucked in the side of one of the bags, scribbled on in very familiar penmanship, that confirms it:

_I’m sure the guy deserved it._

Cindy snorts the first time she reads it. By the fifth, her smile is gone. 

She tucks the note in her back pocket and lofts the totes into her apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last ep was really sad for cynco, but I was inspired to write a story about them trying to navigate not being together anymore. Should be multichapter but I don't know how many it'll have.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris kicked them out of the labs. 
> 
> "It's a mental health day," she’d said (glaring at Barry until he stopped sputtering and agreed). Said they were burning it at both ends; after 24 hours they’d all be back to tackle their headlining problem with fresh eyes. 
> 
> Iris is probably right. Iris is usually right. 
> 
> Still.

_10 days_

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Cisco should really put in a maintenance request.

_Drip. Drip._

Fat load of good that’ll do, though. Mitch, Cisco’s landlord, is really only that in title alone. There's not one repair in this place Cisco hasn't done by his damn self. 

_Drip. Drip._

_Not like I have the time to fix it_ , he thinks sardonically, trying to focus his eyes on the characters running for their lives on his television. Oh, that guy just got his arm torn off.

Iris kicked them out of the labs.

" _It's a mental health day_ ," she’d said (glaring at Barry until he stopped sputtering and agreed). Said they were burning it at both ends; after 24 hours they’d all be back to tackle their headlining problem with fresh eyes.

Iris is probably right. Iris is usually right.

Still.

Cisco can’t remember a day in the last 6 months he’s been alone in his apartment this long. Hell, he can’t remember a day in the last 6 _years_ that he’s gone without being in Star Labs. Which is, you know. Healthy.

So. Maybe he’s a little restless.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

He calls Barry.

“ _Hello_?”

“Hey, Barr,” Cisco greets, casual, very very casual. “What’s up?”

Barry laughs through the receiver. “ _I dunno, dude you called me. So...you what’s up?_ ”

Cisco laughs too, it doesn't feel as forced as he thought it would.

“I just...uh…was just thinking….” And then he draws a complete blank. Long enough for Barry to say  _"Hello?_ " again like he thinks Cisco just hung up on him. Long enough that Cisco considers bringing up the  _weather_ as a conversation piece. “What’s that sound?” he says instead at the hissing he hears over the line.

“ _What sound..._ ” Barry trails off, voice fading for a second before he makes a surprised noise and Cisco can tell he's not holding the phone to his ear anymore. “ _Iris!_ ” His muffled voice calls, more casual than it rightfully should given his next words are, “ _The chicken’s on fire!_ ”

And then Iris's voice is unmistakable, a chorus of, “ _Shitshitshitshitshit,"_ crescendoing as she enters. " _Aww man!"_

Cisco stifles a grin. "Hey, Iris!" he yells, figuring it's loud enough for her to hear. 

She does. “Hi Cisco!” she greets back, her voice almost sheepish. She says something to Barry that’s too low for Cisco to hear, but then Barry is back on the line.

“Hey, man I’ll call you back. Gotta make a pizza run,” Barry says and his voice wobbles like he's trying hard not to laugh. 

He hangs up before Cisco can tell him to be careful running in the rain.

Cisco chews his lip. 

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

He calls Caitlin.

 _This_ conversation starts out _much_ more successfully:

She talks, for a while, about how she thinks she can get Killer Frost back, and how she’s more a part of her than she originally thought and Cisco pretends he knows what the hell that means and that it isn’t weird to him at all because these days in this city in _his_ life it shouldn’t be. And when it’s his turn, he doesn’t talk about himself. At all.

Instead, he talks about the stupid leaking pipe in his ceiling. And his bum ass landlord, Mitch. 

“Why don’t you just fix it? You'd probably do a better job.” She says. There's an implicit ' _duh_ ' there. And honestly who asked her?

Then, he gives her his latest take on his favorite shows, where he thinks the plots are going, if he thinks the writing is doing the storyline justice, what he thinks is cool, what he thinks sucks. He's grateful that Caitlin doesn't question why he's telling her any of this. She just  _mhm’_ s her way through all of it the way he did for her. Pleasant. Distant. They’ve got their own stuff. He gets it.

“You miss her, don’t you?” Caitlin says gently--out of _nowhere_ \--in the middle of his “last” show analysis. And Cisco frowns because if she didn’t want to talk about _The Walking Dead_ she could have just _said so_.

“Okay, rude.”

“Cisco,” Caitlin prods.

“I think I’ve been doing okay,” he says in lieu of an answer.

“Is that counting the part where you bought her 100 pounds of coffee beans.”

Cisco’s so close to hanging up. “Okay, first of all, it was _60_ pounds, second of all _she_ bought it, she just didn’t take them with her because she punched out some guy in line,” he trails into a laugh, “It was actually pretty--”

“-- _Cisco_ \--”

He clears his throat “--and third I didn’t do that for her I did it for the world. For the multiverse. You ever seen that woman without caffeine? Unhinged. Just-just chaos.”

“You miss her.”

 _Who_ asked her?

Cisco starts and stops a lot of sentences. Makes a real valiant effort to argue if only to give him something to do other than say _that,_ which lasts all of two seconds before he gives the hell up.

“I miss her,” he says finally. He lets out a sad puff of air that he meant to be a laugh, “What’s kind of funny is I thought I missed her before, you know? When we were together. I thought maybe it wouldn’t be that much harder; we were already seeing each other less and less. But now…”

24 hours. He had 24 hours to keep these thoughts at bay and then he’d be back to being too busy for it to matter. He’s got Devoe, and Harry’s problem, and his gadgets, and his job at CCPD, and Devoe, and did he mention _Devoe_ to worry about and he’s never alone enough for him to remember. But now he’s got a day off.

And for almost a year, his days off belonged to Cynthia.

Whether it was hanging out at his apartment, or sneaking onto her Earth to be at hers. Movie dates, dinners. Whether it was her silly little holo-messages she'd send when she was sorry but she couldn't make their date. She never knew where to look to be meeting his eyes in those. She was always sort of looking down.

And then there were just those quick moments between one world and the next stopping by just to give him a kiss. Those days were hers. 

Caitlin makes a sympathetic noise like she’d read his mind. And it doesn't take long to end the call after that; Cisco feels his throat getting tight and he does his best to rush Caitlin off the phone in the least assholey way possible before his voice gives him away.

He drops his phone next to him on the couch, slouches back.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

He sucks in a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Alright,” He says, letting that breath out. “Alright already.”

Cisco gets up and heads to the laundry room for his crescent wrench. He really needs to fix that damn leak.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UM! kudos and comments!! This gon get pretty canon divergent pretty soon cause i have NO idea where they're going with this Devoe plot in the next couple of eps.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jitters is a nexus of chaotic activity. That's just the way it is.

He sees her again about a month after they defeat Devoe.

Joe’s at the precinct and Caitlin goes...off somewhere with a mumbled excuse and a look that says 'don't ask'. But the rest of the team is in Star Labs, as usual. And while Barry and Wally are in the speedlab training, Iris and Cisco are in the Cortex brainstorming ways they can incorporate Iris's blog alerts into an algorithm.

“Now, we don’t need _every_ alert--” Iris starts.

“Right, we need to find a way to trigger our systems only with relevant intel,” Cisco finishes for her.

“Exactly. So we flag keywords.”

“Perfect,” Cisco nods, turning to the console touchpad. “Which words?”

Iris hisses. “Damn, good question. Um...well ‘metahuman’, obviously.”

“Got it.” Cisco types in all variations of ‘Meta’ and ‘Metahuman’ he can think of. Then he thinks of the rogues. And Zoom. And Thawne. And Devoe. And Savitar. And breaches. And then the fact that they have to account for the ignorance of the average citizen in Central City. And-- “This is gonna take forever, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” Iris pats his shoulder. “One of us should make a coffee run.”

Cisco chuckles, already pulling his jacket from under her because she never bothered to move it when she sat down. “And by ‘one of us’ you mean me?”

“What?” She says with wide eyes. “No!--well, since you’re already up.” She presses the intercom. “Boys, Cisco’s getting coffee--”

She doesn’t even fully finish the sentence before there are two sweaty speedsters in the Cortex, tripping over each other's words to get their orders out.

“Three shots of espresso in mine!--” Barry says.

“And-and I need like eleven pumps of chocolate syrup," Wally cuts in. 

"Oooh that sounds good--mine too!" 

Iris wrinkles her nose. “Cavities much?”

“Nah, I don’t have any cavities, look--” Wally opens his mouth wide and leans into Iris’s space.

“ _Gross_ , Wally!”

“Hey--" Cisco points two fingers at Barry and Wally "--they’re speedsters, why can’t one of them go?” Not that he particularly minds. It’s just that he's tired  _and_ whenever one of them goes for coffee _alone_  something crazy happens _and_ he doesn't really feel like watching the barista at Jitters roll her eyes when he gives Iris's high maintenance ass order. And there’s one barista who for some reason always gives him _serious_ attitude.

“Dude, hot coffee plus super speed?” Barry says incredulously. “Not a good combo.”

“Last time I did a coffee run I scalded my nipple,” Wally adds sadly. Iris bites her cheek.

Barry nods, continuing, "Plus we gotta get back to  _training--_ "

“Wow. Alright, fine. But that means I’m not doing the next run!” He’s answered with noncommittal noises of assurance. “I mean it!” He opens a breach.

“Get me a cronut!” Iris calls out.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He vaguely hears Wally mimic “Cavities much?” before the breach closes behind him.

* * *

 The weirdly standoffish barista wasn’t in today, so he was able to get the goods without feeling compelled to tip $10 out of guilt that he’d slighted her somehow. He's about to actually successfully finish a coffee run, a feat that hasn't been accomplished in weeks--nay-- _months_. At night, no less, he's the  _man._

What the hell is he thinking? This is Central City. 

He’s in the alley, out of plain sight of pedestrians, the usual route he takes to and from Jitters. A breach opens near the dumpster that very much isn’t his; it’s got an angry red electricity to it. Cisco only has time to think _not another goddamn speedster_ before a _linebacker_ comes bounding from the tear like a bat outta hell.

 _Friend or foe friend or foe?_ The man’s eyes and hands start to glow red.

“Ah fuck,” Cisco groans. Reluctantly, he drops the coffees on the ground, tensing for a fight. 

Suddenly another breach opens above the man. This one does look like Cisco's but still very much _isn’t_.

And when a tiny angry woman falls from the breach yelling, " _BUUUTCHERRR!_ " Cisco wonders why he'd ever wondered _who_ or  _why_ at all. 

She lands with her legs around the dude--shot in the dark, his name _could be_ 'Butcher'--'s neck. She twists sharply to the left and Cisco shouldn’t be shocked to see that the movement successfully flips the man onto the asphalt.

Cisco moves to help just as she straddles Butcher at the shoulders, unholsters her stun gun, and shoots him, point blank, in the dead center of his forehead. He's out cold instantly. Cisco throws his arms up. 

She stands, swinging her heavy curls behind her. She adjusts her jacket, swipes the pebbles from the knees of her cargo pants, cracks her back…

Cisco sees the second she senses him; her shoulders lock up. She half turns to look at him. 

“Cisco,” she breathes, a hint of surprise in her tone.

Cisco smiles tight.

“Hi, Cynthia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments and yes I did put Butcher in here not because I'm a fan but because I needed someone with teleportation powers. This is the Butcher that DOESN'T look like the devil. 
> 
> Also yeah this is a short chapter but the next one is probably gonna pick up right where this one leaves off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the backslide. Or--almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one here ticked up the rating juuuust a tad. Plus angst!

“Uh,” Cisco says eloquently, mouth suddenly full of sand. He could really use a cup of coffee right now. To ground him, or at least burn the taste buds off his tongue so he’d have something else to focus on that wasn’t his heart beating out of his chest.

“What are you doing here?” he hears himself ask.

Cynthia quirks a brow and faces him fully. She kicks pointedly at Butcher’s unconscious body.

“Right.”

“What else would I be doing here?” she asks.

It’s rhetorical, and there’s no heat to it. But it still settles uncomfortably in the air between them, heavier than she means it to be.

_She has no other business on this earth._

Cisco, for his part, completely leaps over his initial thought and goes for the light response, “Well Jitters is right here--” he leans his head to the left to indicate, “Maybe you wanna go beat the hell out of more customers.”

Well, light for them.

Her eyes widen, then she smiles a little self-deprecating smile. “Yeah, no, pretty sure I’m banned for life.” She hesitates, shifts like she’s deciding whether she should say what she says next. Then, softly, “Thanks for the coffee, though.”

She looks like she’s in a bubble; standing fifteen feet away from him, never trying to move a single inch closer. She’s so tense he thinks her neck’s gonna snap, every muscle pulled taut like she’s preparing to break and run.

So he says, “Yeah, that shit was hea- _vy._ ”

That startles a laugh out of her, and he takes it as a small victory. “It was _not_ that bad!”

“Girl. Twelve full totes? Are you kidding?”

“Eh, hit the gym,” she dismisses rolling her eyes.

“I-” Cisco’s mouth opens, closes, opens. He shakes his head. “ _Damn._ I forgot how rude you are.”

Cynthia gives him a look. “No, you didn’t.”

He chuckles, but suddenly feels compelled to examine the coffees he’d abandoned for no reason; he hadn’t noticed the chocolate syrup from Wally’s had splattered all over his shoes. “No, I didn’t,” he echoes finally.

When he looks back up, she’s still just as far away from him as before. Her smile is gone.

“I…” she bites her lip. Something flashes over her face that from where he’s standing looks like guilt, but something like irritation follows and wipes it out. What’s left is that guarded look he’s come to know and hate. “I gotta take him,” she gestures to Butcher.

Cisco nods sharply. “Right.”

“Sorry about your coffees,” she says. “I’d say your refills are on me but--”

“‘Banned for life’,” Cisco finishes. He can’t stop nodding. “Got it. No, it’s cool. Not your fault.”

Cynthia purses her lips and nods too. Then takes a breath like she wants to say something else.

But she doesn’t; her mouth snaps shut, the air stays puffed in her chest. She opens a breach beneath her and Butcher, and they both fall through. No evidence that she was ever even here aside from the hot coffee soaking through his socks.

Though, he figures that could just be blamed on clumsiness to anyone happening by.

“Nope.” Cisco turns on his heel and heads back towards the Jitters entrance. He blames the pain in his chest on severe caffeine deficiency. “Definitely not making the next coffee run.”

* * *

 

The door to Cisco’s apartment slams behind him. He purposely knocks his head against it when he leans back.

It’s 3:34 am. He and Iris had come up with 456 keywords to flag in the algorithm. Some of those they’ll end up throwing out, but there’ll be just as many others that they’ll need to think to add. After all, Iris’s blog has a shitton of followers.

Cisco rubs at his eyes. Tired doesn’t even begin…

“Should I leave?”

Cisco leaps about three feet into the air. Cynthia is sitting on his couch. “ _Shit_ , you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she shakes her head. “I know it's crazy late, but I knew you’d be up and....--no, I’m sorry that was dumb,” she laughs at herself, but there’s not a trace of humor in it. She stands and shoots her hand out to make a breach. “Sorry--”

“Nonono wait.” Cisco rushes to her but stops short about four feet away. “It’s okay.”

Cynthia stares at him. Her arm is still extended, fingers flexing.

“It’s okay,” Cisco repeats.

“Okay,” she says, letting her arm fall to her side. But she drops his gaze and gathers more distance between them, taking a seat on the far arm of his couch. “I just...earlier I was surprised to see you I meant to say…” she shakes her head.

Cisco’s brow furrows. He sits on the other side of the couch. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” she shakes her head again. “But I meant to tell you that I’m happy you don’t have a guppy brain.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Cisco lets out a surprised laugh. He nods, “Thanks, I’m pretty thrilled about it, too.”

She nods too and tucks her hair behind her ear. “I would’ve...y’know I wanted to--I was gonna snatch you up,” she says with a huff. “If anything went wrong I was gonna...but then I figured you wouldn’t have wanted that.”

Cisco’s lips quirk. “Nah, I wouldn’t have. If we were gonna fail I would have wanted to go down with the ship.”

“Mmhm.” He can't get a read on the look in her eye. But then, abruptly, she stands. “Well. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Cisco blinks from the whiplash. “That’s it.”

“Mhm,” she hums, not meeting his eyes. Once again, she reaches a hand out to open a breach. "Be seeing ya." 

“Oh, bullshit,” Cisco says before he can stop himself.

Cynthia freezes her arm mid-air. She turns her head sharply in his direction. “‘Scuse me?”

He scrubs a hand down his face, deciding that he’s already made the bed so he may as well lay in it. He rises to his feet. “You didn’t come back hours later and wait in my apartment at half past three in the _morning_ just so you could tell me that you _forgot_ to say you were glad I didn’t get brain melted?”

“I just got off work, sue me.”

“Ah, the work excuse.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head, eyes hard. “We’re not gonna go there Cisco. What’s done is done.”

“Then why are you here, Cynthia?”

“I just told you why!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what the hell do you want me to do?!”

Cynthia’s breathing fans across Cisco’s face. He doesn’t remember walking this distance, getting this close. Close enough to count the freckles across her nose. Close enough for her to have to tilt her head back to look at him. He realizes this is the closest he’s been to her since they broke up.

Her eyes drop to his mouth and that does it.

He’s the first to lean in, but she rocks up on her toes to meet him half a beat later. Her hands hold him steady at the sides of his face when their lips meet, his arms wrap around her back. The kiss is hard, each and every one of them. It's not what he’s used to, but it’s her. He holds her tight to him and walks backwards until his knees hit the couch.

Cynthia plants her hands on his shoulders and pushes him to sit, bracketing his thighs with hers without once breaking the kiss.

Cisco does, though, because when he tugs at the zipper of her jacket, it won’t budge. It never budges. He groans, “God, I hate this fucking thing.”

Cynthia chuckles against his forehead. “It’s really not that hard.”

He adjusts her on his lap. “Oh it is, trust me.”

“Idiot,” she grumbles, but grinds down against him anyway. She grabs his jaw and kisses him again, rolling their tongues together. He forgets about the zipper, for now, and just focuses on kissing her.

Her softness, her strength, her heat. Cisco holds her tight and pours himself into every kiss. Cynthia pants against his mouth and slides her hands under his shirt, nails scraping his belly. Cisco groans. “I’ve missed this,” he breathes. 

He knows before she even pulls away that it was the wrong thing to say. For a moment she sits frozen against his mouth, then she’s up and out of his lap so quick her warmth still lingers around him. 

Cisco stands. “Wait--”

“No,” she shakes her head like she’s clearing it. She moves further back, further away from him. “No, I knew it was a bad idea to come here. Y'know--why don't I ever listen to myself? _Dammit_!”

“Cynthia,” he pleads. “Wait, if we just talk---”

“What’s there to talk about, Cisco, huh?” The streetlamps shining through the blinds reflect off the wetness in her eyes, wide and desperate. “Nothing’s changed has it?”

Cisco swallows.

“ _Has it_?” She presses.

“No,” he replies.

Cynthia breathes out slowly, eyes closing. “We shouldn’t…” she pauses as her voice breaks. She takes a deep breath in, “We shouldn’t do this to ourselves. Torture ourselves.”

She turns away and opens a breach.

“ _Cynthia_ ,” he calls softly. He doesn’t know what for, there’s nothing else to say.

She turns her head, and he catches her profile in the light. “I’m sorry for showing up. I didn’t mean to...I just--I just wanted…” She takes another deep breath, shakes her head. “Bye, Cisco.”

Then, she’s gone.

“Bye, Cynthia,” Cisco says to the air she left behind, dropping back to the couch. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes until black spots appear. When he pulls them away the light catches something; flecks of gold on his palm. Her eyeshadow. Cisco takes a deep breath. 

“Fuck.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah...

**Author's Note:**

> So the last ep was really sad for cynco, but I was inspired to write a story about them trying to navigate not being together anymore. Should be multichapter but I don't know how many it'll have.


End file.
